


Stiles Stilinski: The Idiot Soulmate

by whenshewrites



Series: A Collection of One-Shots and Tumblr Prompts [65]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beta Derek Hale, Canon-Typical Violence, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale is Not a Failwolf, Domestic Fluff, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Stiles Stilinski is a Tease, Tumblr Prompt, Warning: Gerard Argent, very brief - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:27:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24797680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenshewrites/pseuds/whenshewrites
Summary: Soulmates can feel the pain of their other side, and Derek is sure his soulmate is a spastic idiot.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: A Collection of One-Shots and Tumblr Prompts [65]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956889
Comments: 20
Kudos: 916





	Stiles Stilinski: The Idiot Soulmate

The thing is, Derek knew his soulmate was an idiot.

Laura told him to stop grumping and just be happy that he had a soulmate, but Derek begged to disagree. Because his soulmate was a literal idiot and Derek couldn’t put into words how often he felt like he was covered in bruises, or scratches, or other miscellaneous injures.

He was a werewolf. He wasn’t supposed to wake up in the morning and feel like he’d been hit by a truck. It was clear his soulmate was a disregardful spaz because he was always wounded and in return, Derek was always feeling it. 

And he was so done with everything years before they’d even met.

Derek decided he could go his entire life without ever meeting his soulmate. He— she— they— them— whatever, sucked. Derek woke up one morning with what could only be a black eye and he knew he’d gone to bed perfectly fine. Which means his soulmate was doing stupid things.

Again.

Laura thought it was hilarious. And sometimes… sometimes, Derek was okay with that. Because she didn’t find many things hilarious since the fire.

But then again, his face hurt. And it was all his soulmate’s fault.

“Clearly, they’re going to get themselves killed before we even meet,” Derek said in a growl, as Laura touched a cool cloth against his left eye; which felt far more painful than it looked. “And then I won’t be able to kill them myself for putting me through so much pain.”

“You’re acting like a baby, Der.”

“I’m a werewolf,” he growled, not caring how babyish that sounded. “I’m not supposed to be healing at the rate of a stupid human. I’m not supposed to be hurting at all.”

“I think it’s kind of cute,” Laura said teasingly. “You falling for a little human.”

Derek was quiet at that, hit with a sudden onslaught of grief. Because he didn’t think it was cute at all. He’d fallen in love with a ‘little human’ before and it hadn’t ended well. It never ended well.

He pulled away from Laura’s gentle touch and stalked into his bedroom. Closing and locking the door behind him, Derek glared at the opposite wall for a long second and tried not to think about her words. Tried not to rest on the fact that yes, he’d thought he’d fallen in love with a ‘little human’ before. 

When Paige had sore fingers from practicing cello all day and Derek could’ve sworn he did too. When Kate showed him the callouses on her hands and Derek thought he had ones that were similar. But it’d all been a lie.

Growling, Derek clenched his fist and drove it into the wall. 

And over in Beacon Hills, Stiles felt the first shot of pain from his soulmate that he had since he’d been twelve years old. 

-

Because see, Stiles had felt something once. His dad had been called away to take care of a fire and Stiles felt such pain, that it didn’t even feel like an injury. It felt like a broken heart. It felt like a torn soul.

He’d stayed under his covers all night whimpering. He couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t make it go away. He stayed curled up in a ball all night trying to just breathe.

And by morning, he was able to move again. He stopped feeling like he was on the verge of tears. Later that day, his dad said there’d been a fire in the preserve. 

Stiles didn’t see the connection.

\- 

The thing is, Derek was oblivious. Stiles was an idiot. And long after Derek Hale returned to Beacon Hills and Stiles Stilinski developed a crush, neither of them actually realized… things. Which really should have been expected.

Derek realized it first.

He felt it like an assault when they were trying to track down Jackson as the kanima. Hit by both surprise and sudden pain, he dropped to his knees and brought a hand to his face, gasping in pain. He could feel a blow, then another. He felt like his lip had been split and then like someone had kicked him in the ribs.

Among the chaos, the conflict, and the fighting, Derek wasn’t sure anyone else noticed. He didn’t stop feeling the throbbing or the onslaught of pain until he was aware of Scott catching him by the neck and dragging him toward a waiting Gerard.

Then the rest of the night was a bit of a blur. 

Derek wanted— he wanted— he didn’t know what he wanted. He needed to be somewhere far away. Away from the feeling of blood on his lower lip, the taste of Gerard in his mouth, or the feeling of Jackson’s flesh underneath his nails.

But then Stiles showed up. Stiles, with a split lip, bruised face, and black eye. And Derek realized that no matter where he went or how far away he got, he’d never escape.

Stiles’s tongue darted out to trace the cut on his lower lip. Derek felt his own sting.

He turned away from the boy and didn’t look back.

-

It took Stiles a little longer.

He didn’t even linger on his possible soulmate until one day during school, when Stiles was doing his best to stay awake during one of Harris’s lectures. The last thing he needed was another detention, even though he felt like he hadn’t slept in weeks.

At one moment, he was blinking tiredly at Harris’s powerpoint. During the next, he felt himself drifting off. And then all he knew was pain.

It felt like someone had stabbed him straight through the back. Stiles convulsed and slipped out of his seat, hitting the floor hard. But he didn’t even feel the pain of that, too wrapped up in the waves of agony that crashed over him. He heard the sound of startled shouts, felt Scott scrambling toward him and taking his arm, leeching some of the pain away. But then the boy made a startled noise and yanked away, brown eyes wide.

“Stiles—”

Stiles barely heard him. He clawed at his chest, certain he’d feel blood or torn flesh, or something. But he was okay. He was intact.

His soulmate wasn’t.

“They’re dying,” Stiles said in a gasp, his throat tightening to a painful level. “Scott, I think they’re dying.”

“Who, Stiles? Who’s dying?”

But Stiles didn’t know. All he could do was writhe, feeling the foreign object twist in his chest from somewhere unseen. He squeezed his eyes shut and heard Harris bellowing something to those around him. Felt calloused hands on his shoulders, trying to drag him up. Stiles gasped and struggled, and tried to breathe.

And then the feeling was gone.

Like a breath of fresh air, the pain was gone, the burn was ebbing away, and Stiles dropped like a rock, pressing hard against the classroom floor. He gasped for breath, aware that his face was streaked with tears but not remembering when that happened.

All he could think was his soulmate was dead. There was no way someone survived that much pain and then walked away healed. Turning his face away from the classmates that stared, Stiles bit back a sob. Scott touched his arm again. This time, there were no black streaks. No pain to be taken. Nothing other than the hopelessness Stiles was feeling.

They didn’t talk about that day again.

-

Allison wasn’t Scott’s soulmate. When they first met and she shot him, she didn’t feel a thing. When Stiles was possessed by the Nogitsune and the Oni stabbed her, Scott said there was no pain.

She’d said the same thing. But in a different way.

\- -

Derek felt the Nogitsune like a headache that never left. He couldn’t be around Stiles but all he wanted to do was stay close. To take care of him. To say everything was going to be alright.

Then Void threw him against the wall of his loft one day. Derek’s back cracked against the cornered stone and Void jerked in pain. Then his eyes snapped to Derek and a sick smile curled across his features. Derek felt like his world was crashing down around him.

But Void didn’t say a word.

And afterward, Stiles either didn’t remember or didn’t want to talk about it. Derek couldn’t be sure but he was too scared to press it. So instead, he stayed quiet.

Eventually, the nogitsune was killed. The pack retreated into themselves to mourn. And Derek never visited Stiles in the hospital.

Then Kate shot him in the chest. 

-

Stiles knew what he was running from.

He watched Derek struggle for breath with Braeden’s hand wrapped around his arm and knew that if he turned away, there wouldn’t be any coming back. There was blood trailing down Derek’s lip and a hole in his stomach. Stiles was leaning heavily against the jeep and he barely felt like he could move himself. And he didn’t want to.

But then shattered grey-green eyes met his own and Derek jerked his head with a faint ‘Save him’ leaving his lips and Stiles knew that if he turned away, there wouldn’t be any coming back.

He still turned away. He knew what he was running from.

Stiles only looked back once. 

\- 

When Stiles arrived home four years later, he expected to see the grumpy-looking werewolf sitting on their couch that faced the door. The man had an open book in his lap but wasn’t paying it any attention and when he met Stiles’s gaze, he didn’t look happy.

Stiles still put on a bright smile. “Hey, Der! You, uh, waiting up for me?”

“Did you have a good day at work, Stiles?”

“Oh yeah,” Stiles said, forcing himself to stay cheery. “Just fantastic. You know, the little things. Spilled some coffee on myself this morning and ended up drowning in paperwork sometime around noon. I missed lunch though. Got anything on the stove?”

Stiles tried to scoot around him and head for the kitchen, but Derek was there in an instant, cutting him off. Stiles sunk his teeth into his bottom lip and silently cursed, glancing up at the man’s narrowed eyes.

“So is that a ‘no’ on having something on stove? Because that’s fine. I can order in.”

“Paperwork and spilled coffee, Stiles? That’s all?”

“Um, yes?”

Derek’s eyes flicked to the bandages wrapping around Stiles’s shoulder and his face tightened a fraction. Stiles noticed with a pang of guilt the small ice pack that was bandaged to the man’s own shoulder. It looked like it’d melted hours ago. “So you weren’t shot in the shoulder earlier, then?”

“Oh yeah,” Stiles said, ducking his head. “I forgot about that.”

“You forgot?”

“I would have called,” Stiles joked weakly. “But I figured you already knew. And I really didn’t want to get yelled at.”

Derek’s face softened. Calloused fingers reached out and found Stiles’s own, and Stiles couldn’t stop a small sigh from leaving his lips as Derek threaded their fingers together and leaked away some of the pain. The werewolf leaned forward and touched his lips against Stiles’s forehead. “I was just worried about you.”

“I know,” Stiles said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“One of these days, you’re going to get shot when I’m doing something public. Like buying groceries. Or making conversation with the neighbors.”

“And today?”

Derek’s face tinted red, the color going all the way to the tips of his ears. Stiles tilted his head up and studied the man’s face before barking out a laugh.

“Oh my god, were you on the toilet again?”

“I was in the shower.”

“Oh,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes. “Well, then it could’ve been worse.”

“I was so surprised I slipped and fell, Stiles.”

Stiles barked out a laugh, unable to stop himself. Derek growled lowly and Stiles chuckled, leaning forward to press a quick kiss against his lips. “Sorry. Let me make it up to you? I am starving.”

“There’s no food on the stove.”

“I was talking about something much more edible.”

Derek’s eyes flashed blue and he hoisted Stiles up, throwing him over his— uninjured— shoulder. Stiles yelped and tried to struggle, only to go limp as they entered the bedroom. He was grinning when the man dropped him onto the bed and lifted his arm, stripping off his shirt. The look in Derek’s eyes was nothing other than predatory.

And maybe a little soft too. 

The man leaned forward and kissed him hard, before dragging his lips to the shell of Stiles’s ear. “I always knew you were an idiot, you know.”

Stiles shivered. Derek’s tone dropped an octave.

“Care to make all those years up to me?”

“Oh please,” Stiles managed to get out. “I’ve made it up to you plenty of times, big guy.”

Derek growled again. Stiles couldn’t help grinning as sharp teeth skated down his neck, nipping here and there, and then latched on above his collarbone. Derek smelled like pine and aftershave, and his lips were warm. His presence was heavy and it was warm.

When one finger slipped beneath the waistband of his jeans, Stiles couldn’t help jerking. He slammed his hand up against the headboard and barked out in pain as one of his fingers popped. At the same time, Derek let out a startled grunt.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Stiles dissolved into a fit of giggles and Derek buried his face into Stiles’s shoulder, sighing heavily.

“Idiot.”

Stiles didn’t even try to argue with that.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried not to write this, I really did, but a friend showed me a prompt and I couldn't get any peace. So here we are! I hope you all enjoyed this soulmate twist (I don't write soulmate au's often, I apologize if it's a mess). As always, stay safe and I hope you're all doing well!
> 
> Come hang out with me on Tumblr!
> 
> [the dumpster](https://when-she-writes-stuff.tumblr.com/)


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